


New Year's Resolution

by astrosaur



Category: Sexy Zone
Genre: Gen, M/M, asexuality/ace spectrum, happy 20th Sou!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 06:00:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12834804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrosaur/pseuds/astrosaur
Summary: Sou cycles through four crushes.





	New Year's Resolution

            It was Shori, to begin with. The order goes: Shori first, then Kento, then Fuma, and finally Marius. That might be the most surprising to the others, if they knew. That Marius had been the last. Not the final, but the most recently identified.

            It doesn’t matter that Sou feels a certain way for all four of his bandmates, in fluctuating degrees. It’s not as if these emotions are requited, as if he’s in danger of ever landing in a position where he’d have to choose one over the other. It only matters that his feelings are real. No matter how they overlap, or how others might deem them as lacking in substance.

 

●●●

 

            With Shori, there was coldness initially, confined to crisp interactions when they first met. But just as the prolonged stretch of nighttime turns magical with an overnight smattering of festive lights, a careful assembly of words likewise changed the landscape of Sou and Shori’s friendship. Before Sou knew it, that coldness got overshadowed by a warmth kindled from within. The gloom of hazy grey skies made way for fireplace smiles and hot chocolate hugs. For inside jokes that would settle as fresh and dear as first snowfall.

            It was in the middle of December when Sou learned of the depth of his feelings. His friendship with Shori became like a present that he got to unwrap slowly and carefully, knowing its contents would never stop endearing him to his friend. Shori himself is a lot like Christmas, true to their red and green image colors. With Shori, he feels a sense of familiarity and rarity all at once. It’s like being at home with family and loved ones and rediscovering meaning in their presence, after it had been hidden for the last three hundred and sixty-four days.

            Not long after Sou came to terms with his feelings, he’d spent the countdown concert in the rafters with Shori and Marius and the hordes of Juniors who were too young to perform. He enjoyed watching Kento and Fuma onstage together, and that – for the most part – displaced the looming distress of being in this same position without Shori by his side next year. Nonetheless, that little seed of worry had evidently been noticeable, because Shori would later make an unexpected remark about Marius having to do this alone for three whole years. The playful smirk that Shori aimed at Marius hadn’t disguised the fact that his comment had been engineered to keep Sou’s spirits afloat.

            As they counted down the last dwindling seconds of that year, Sou thought to himself, it’s a good time to fall in love.

            Little did he know the exact same thought would recur in the springtime.

 

●●●

 

            Spring isn’t Sou’s favorite season, if only because he doesn’t have one. But he feels a distinct attachment to the optimistic feeling that accompanies it, those hints of greater expectations on the horizon. To him, that’s precisely what Kento represents.

            There was nothing intense in his realization of what he felt for their eldest member. At most, it was sudden, like when Kento’s toothy smile catches Sou off-guard with its surprising allure, much like the pleasant surprise of pastel colors blossoming after those long-overcast months. Other times, it’s barely noticeable, like how Kento’s calming sensitivity reminds Sou of gradually warming weather.

            Kento sympathizes with him, maybe even empathizes with him. Recently, he’d said, practically out of nowhere, “You know someone long enough, you’ll fall in love with them.”

            “You mean, Fuma-kun?” Sou had asked. Because, well.

            “No, I mean all of you.”

            “All of us?!” Sou had repeated. Most of his shock came from the lightness in Kento’s tone as he’d said it.

            Kento laughed at his bewildered outburst. “Something like that. It’s not like I want to date the four of you. That’s not all there is to being in love.”

            _Is it the same way for you?_ Sou had wanted to ask. Still wants to ask, up to this day, but the words never make it past his throat.

            He’s thought about it before. About how he doesn’t want to actually kiss Kento or any of the others, as aesthetically pleasing as they are, and as deep as his feelings run. He doesn’t fantasize about them in that specific way that others do.

            He hopes that’s what Kento means by the spectrum of falling in love and all that it could encompass.

            Whatever Kento had meant, it was the first time Sou felt hope about dealing with feelings that fall outside of convention. That particular conversation presented him with the idea that all he’d developed and nurtured up to that point had some purpose. His feelings had somewhere to go, even if it may not be headed in the direction that most people told him it would.

            Spring is like hope. Except for the fact that spring isn’t eternal.

 

●●●

 

            Spring turns into summer.

            On a day without a single cloud in the sky, Fuma introduces the four of them to a girl that he refers to as his friend. Sou thinks nothing of it when he later sneaks off with her for privacy. Sou has an idea or two what Fuma and his “friend” need privacy for, and it doesn’t bother him in the least.

            When Sou first recognized the axis of his affections shifting from Kento to Fuma, he hadn’t been surprised. He can pinpoint the somewhat banal moment that swayed his heart: it was when they were trapped in their hotel in the middle of a tour, July rain pelting unforgivingly outside.

            In the hotel lobby, Fuma had sighed at Mother Nature spoiling their plans to enjoy the city on their one night off. He’d linked arms with Sou and Marius, and began regretfully steering them back towards the elevators. Only two steps later, he’d switched directions and ran backwards, dragging the two of them with him to the area right outside the shelter of the roof. Both Sou and Marius had yelped in shock while Fuma kept a tight hold on them so they couldn’t flee.

            Kento had yelled for them to get back inside, although his peals of laughter diminished any authority he was going for. Beside him, Shori enjoyed the spectacle they made before eventually joining them under the rain and helping Fuma block Marius’s escape.

            It’s natural that Sou is enamored with Fuma. Fuma had always been the one who made Sou laugh the most, and Sou laughs _a lot_. Fuma is a one-person summer festival, loud in his joy and endlessly engaging, with a sparkling wit that rivals the sun. Crowds will gather around him, intrigued with what he has to offer, and they will linger for the sense of community – the way he makes them feel like they belong, no matter who it is.

            It’s also natural that Sou would want Fuma to be happy, even happier than he already is. If Fuma wants to spread his blinding sunshine, whether it’s shining upon the other members or beaming over his not-girlfriend, who is Sou to begrudge him of that?

            The same afternoon after meeting Fuma’s not-girlfriend, they break off into smaller groups. Sou and Shori walk aimlessly down a busy street, until the older of the two has them ducking into a department store to cool off. Shori’s complaining about the oppressive heat and humidity, but Sou suspects that he’d simply spotted Fuma and his not-girlfriend rounding the corner across the street, and he opted to avoid them.

            Shori probably just wants to give Fuma space, but Sou can’t help entertain the thought that Shori also did it to protect him, on some level. Which would be scary, if that were the case, since it would mean that Shori figured out some of Sou’s innermost workings without having to ask. Sou hopes his speculation is off-base. He’s not entirely ready to explain himself, not even to Shori.

            When the intensity of summer starts to wind down, it takes just a bit of Sou’s positivity with it.

 

●●●

 

            When he was a few weeks shy of seventeen-years-old, Sou came full circle. He’d had a particularly bad argument with Marius that had ended in them not talking to each other for five whole days. Marius was almost always first to apologize, but he’d held off, and Sou wasn’t taking it upon himself to break tradition.

            Thankfully, Marius buckled in the end. He admitted that he didn’t want things to be sour between them on the day the group was planning to celebrate Sou’s birthday. Sou was warmed by the sentiment, but what really got to him was Marius’s explanation about why he’d hesitated to apologize. “I know you’re older than me,” Marius had explained, “but I want us to be equals. You’re the one I want to stand in the same level with, more than anyone else.”

            That was the Marius he fell for.

            It wasn’t even the first time Marius had made that declaration. Sou had said it before, too, back when they were more or less eye-level with one another, and over and over again after the first pang of frustration he felt over him and Marius not having the same genetic predispositions. But Marius’s reiteration, accompanied by a more profound need to be understood, had changed the impact of his words.

            Honestly, it was sometimes a bit melancholic watching Marius grow and slip a little out of reach, gaining heights physical and metaphorical. Far removed from the small, out-of-place German boy who was placed at Sou’s side from the start.

            The boy that exuded warmth, smiles reflecting the most vivid vermilion hues, affectionate demeanor enveloping Sou in the most comfortable climes he would ever experience throughout the year. The boy who would grow into a formidable partner, from out-of-turn sharp comments that cut through like a biting gust of wind, to earnest affirmations of companionship that burst into life like a field of chrysanthemums.

            The beauty of autumn is unlike that of spring, despite both seasons being associated with transition. Spring exudes hope, while fall does the same, only with a more somber tone. Underpinning the promise of joyous events at the end of the year is a faint caveat of hardships to come. Autumn warns you that soon enough, you’ll be constantly seeking protection from the cold.

            More than anyone, Marius represented the changing of the seasons to Sou. Marius represented growth... Growth that did not always include him, no matter what the new candle on his birthday cake might say.

            It’s not that it makes him feel completely hopeless. Negative thoughts can and do lurk in his mind, but Sou has several pillars supporting him to help him regain optimism. Autumn is another reminder to enjoy every moment to its fullest, making these months all the more precious to him.

            On the other hand, it isn’t entirely free of rustling whispers that ask, would there come a time when such an important constant in his life is transformed? If that time should come, would he be as accepting of his place in Marius’s life – accepting of the _others_ entering Marius’s life – just as he has been with Fuma’s? Would it be just as effortless to watch Marius embark on another journey, let him slip from the branch that has connected the two of them all this time?

            Sou wonders if love is supposed to be like that. If it’s supposed to be a little selfish. If it’s the feeling of contentment along with the fear that it could disappear in the blink of an eye. Or, what if love is the ability to welcome the road ahead for what it is, come what may?

 

●●●

 

            The tail-end of fall is almost always saddest, sadder even than the expiration of summer. It’s a little harder to smile when the vibrant colors have faded and the streets get lined with dried leaves that crackle under his shoe.

            Shori floats Sou’s way, an unassuming breeze that calls for attention without meaning to.

            “You like him again, right?” Shori asks. When Sou turns to him, he’s looking in Marius’s direction. “I thought you got over that, and moved on to Kento-kun… or Fuma-kun?”

            Sou has never said it out loud, not to his parents, nor his closest friends back home. But he’s with Shori. Shori who’s like a favorite blanket that should be too beautiful to use on a daily basis, but it’s the best blanket you have so you keep wrapping it around yourself and convincing yourself of its invincibility. “I never get over it.”

            Shori blinks. “What’s that like?”

            Sou thinks of the most honest answer he can. “It’s fine.”

            “Is it tiring?” Shori checks.

            It makes Sou smile, because the question hadn’t been “is it real?” like he’d always imagined it would be. When he thinks about telling someone about how he runs the entire gamut of emotions when it comes to the group, he always rehearses the part where he tells them it’s not a joke and that he isn’t just being fickle.

            “No, not usually.” Sou brightens for Shori’s benefit.

            “If it does get tiring…” Shori trails off, creating an awkward pause before he says the rest of his sentence. “You can let me know. If you want.”

            Sou doesn’t understand then and there why Shori looks embarrassed. They’ve already had a conversation just like this one, a clumsy extension of companionship, and it had already served as the significant milestone in their relationship.

            “I guess the tiring part is wondering whether it’s enough for anyone besides myself,” Sou admits. “I know I shouldn’t worry that much over what others might or might not understand. I can’t help it. I don’t like the idea of my feelings being discounted.”

            Shori chews on Sou’s words for a few moments. Then, “Even if I don’t understand it completely, should I tell you what I think?”

            “Of course!” Sou comes dangerously close to physically falling forward, eager to hear Shori’s point-of-view, regardless of a partial absence of pertinent details.

            “I don’t know if this means a whole lot, but not everyone has eyes like yours. Eyes that see what’s worth appreciating in every little thing in the world,” Shori says, barely a whisper. “Without you knowing it, one or two people might depend on that. I wonder if you’d notice such a thing. Others might rely on your eyes, because when they’re with you, it allows them to slowly start seeing things the same way.”

            “…I can’t imagine anyone depending on me,” Sou murmurs, noncommittal.

            Shori’s mouth purses towards the center, a habit he adopts when he has to wrestle Sou’s insecurity into submission. “It’s hard to see it since your eyes can only look outward.”

            Sou’s mouth forms into an impressed “o” shape. “What do your eyes see, then?”

            “Don’t turn this around on me.” Shori breaks out into laughter, pretty but sheepish, like a snowflake’s crystalline clusters. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault I can’t answer that yet. I’ve hit my limit today.”

            If he were Kento, Sou might say something along the lines of making do with the littlest morsel Shori has to give him. That the smallest offering would be enough to tide him over for the rest of his life.

            Or, he could channel Marius and tackle Shori in an embrace, let Shori know how appreciated he is for having done his best in spite of his struggles.

            Or, if he really set his mind to it, he could be like Fuma, and not allow Shori give up or succumb to perceived limitations.

            But Sou is not Fuma or Marius or Kento. He’s Sou. He’s the one who sees, and, perhaps in at least one mysterious case, he might also be the one who is seen.

            After all that, all Sou has to say is that “it’s okay.” He repeats it as he turns his eyes to Shori, and hopes they reflect even a tenth of his fondness for the other boy.

 

 ●●●

 

            Later, Sou thinks back to that encounter and wishes he’d divulged a bit more. In that moment, he thinks he would’ve been able to tell Shori about everything else. He would’ve been able to fill in the blanks for whatever Shori hasn’t already figured out.

            Tomorrow, Sou might be able to find some time for the two of them. They can talk without their usual frivolity. Or, not too much of it, at least.

            As he readies himself for sleep, Sou makes out a vantage point lying in the distance. With his special, outward-looking eyes, he starts to see where the end of the year and the beginning of the next meet. And he spots a distinct figure cutting a clear-cut silhouette in the middle of it.

            It’s strange to chance upon that image so clearly without banishing the cluster of other genuine feelings he harbors.

            Sou remembers what Kento had said about the extensive bounds of love and its abundance of meanings.

            This must be what Kento was talking about, at least in part. Love doesn’t have to revolve around kisses that fill his head like a mesmerizing swirl of cherry blossom petals. Sou didn’t have to be like the throngs of people who long for the intensity of a June solstice, nor the thrill that comes with the end of October, when the world convenes in cheerful debauchery.

            Love could be about watching one thing end and witnessing another beginning take form, renewed yet familiar. It could be about reckoning with the past, then setting his sights towards the road ahead, resolving to take charge of whatever he can. It could be about facing the bleak weather conditions, enduring it without heaviness in his heart because it shows him the world around him in its grandest form, splendor and possibility at their peaks.

            It was Shori, to begin with.

            It’s a day in January when Sou thinks, it’s a good time to fall in love again.

 

 


End file.
